


Grief

by dugwrites



Category: Bastion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 06:55:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6413491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dugwrites/pseuds/dugwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kid can’t sleep and hears Zia crying, so he decides to see if she’s alright.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grief

**Author's Note:**

> This really is more a friends thing but you know me, I’m shipping trash, so here’s a shippy song i-if you want... y'know: https://youtu.be/t-IabfCL_T8

You woke up... You don't know how long ago, actually. Your breathing's back to normal. The feeling's faded. Now it's like always, since you started your second shift on the Wall, you think. Maybe before, during the first. It's hard to be sure. Memories are fuzzy, you run on autopilot most of the time, a lot of the time you don't know if you're awake or dreaming, and your feelings are on a flat line. Suppose that's why you didn't care or think about the oddity of the ground coming up under your feet, open air where land and wall used to be, or anything. But it's been getting to be different lately.

The first thing to come back was anger. What a surprise. Rucks' missions were an outlet, at least.

Then you found him. Zulf kicked off everything else coming back. You didn't- you still don't really know how to handle it. Out of practice, you guess. He's distant like Rucks but not in the same way. Not so detached, that's for sure. You wonder sometimes if Rucks actually even had anyone close to him to lose in the Calamity. Zulf lost the most important person in his life. Seeing that so, so raw, so fresh, so much like- like when it happened to you. It stirred up a lot. He doesn't talk a lot, so you don't know why exactly, but it seems he's an old hand with grief. He's dealing with it in his own quiet way.

It's new to her, though. New to Zia. Hard for her, of course. Sure, she smiles through it, sings cheery songs, asks for exciting tales. You can still see it behind that smile. You can still hear it. Especially now.

You hear her crying, trying to be quiet, but it's so damn quiet on the Bastion at night it's maddening sometimes and you can you can hear her every night it's like this, you not being able to get back to sleep and her, who knows what? Hasn't slept at all? Nightmares too? Any which way, you know you're awake and hearing it. It's not a dream, it's not fuzzy, and you feel it squeezing at your chest. So you get up and get dressed before you can chicken out and just lay in your bedroll gritting your teeth again.

The walk to her tent shouldn't be this long, the night shouldnt feel this hot, but it is and it does.

You take a deep breath to steel yourself. Gotta do this before you just turn around and go. You rap your knuckles on the pole of her tent. She goes quiet. "Miss? You alright?"

That was stupid. Of course she's not alright. "I couldn't help but hear..."

You trailed off because you don't know if you should say 'you crying.' Is there a better way of putting it? Pyth, you're not just out of practice. You never were good with people in the first place. You bounce on your heels. You should just go. She'd say something if you were wanted. She'll probably say 'go away.' You don't really want to hear that.

Yeah, it's probably time to go.

You're still standing there.

Ma always used to say you never moved unless someone made you. Or you wanted to. You want to go but you don't want to go. It doesn't make sense. You feel both ways. Feelings are stupid and hard, you think to yourself.

Then Zia opens a tent flap. She's ducking because of the height and looks up at you. Teary-eyed, embarrassed, unsure. Your heart drops to your stomach and when gulp it's dry. Yeah. Feeling is hard. Stupid feelings. You try to think, through all those fuzzy memories, before you were all cried out, what you would have wanted someone to say to you.

"Can I just... sit with you?"

She sniffles and nods, goes back in holding the flap open behind her. You follow, she sits down, you sit by her.

It's silent for a while. It's awkward.

"I'm sorry," she says. Her voice is still tight. "Everyone lost everything. You're all... staying strong and here I am, being- being, I don't know. A weakling."

"You're not. Hell," you sigh. "I didn't have anything to lose. If you're being a weakling, then so was I. Back when I lost my momma."

"Does- does it ever stop hurting?"

You fiddle with your fingers a bit. Just be honest with her. "No."

"But then," you continue. "You don't want it to, huh? It'd be like you stopped caring."

She nods, gulping.

"Think about him a lot, don'tcha?"

"Yeah. I think about Dad every day, but I'm starting to forget little things about him. He was away a lot but we had our moments," tears are spilling now. It's getting harder for her to talk. "Happy moments. Ones when- where we really connected. I'm trying to hold onto them so hard. Do they go away? I don't want them to go away."

"No, no. Never. Not the big ones, the ones you really want to stick with you. They're not as clear, but they're there. You think about them less, but," how to put this? "He's always gonna be with you. You remember once in a while, and it hurts, but you feel him with you just then. It hurts, but it's worth it. I think."

She leans onto your shoulder with a stifled sob. "I'm sorry," she barely manages to say.

"Hey, no. It's alright." You put that arm around her shoulder and she collapses into you, clutching your shirt.

You're holding her before you know it, head on hers. Just gut reaction, but you're glad. It wouldn't help her to see the look on your face right now. Blank. Like the one you see on Zulf. You're remembering your Ma, and it hurts. There aren't any tears or sobs threatening to come up, but you're pretty sure you hurt as much right now as the poor girl in your arms.

You wonder if your heart feeling like it'll shrink entirely into itself and feeling like it'll burst at the same time, if it's more 'cause of Zia's grief or yours. Then again, what's the difference right now?

You feel your shirt getting soaked. Hear her forcing herself not to sob, just hitched breathing and a whimper once in a while. You don't tell her it'll be alright. Or to stop crying. You've heard those and you hated it. You do want her to stop crying, but that's for your benefit, not hers.

"Let it out, miss. Just hurts worse later if you hold it in. 'Salright."

She squeezes you so she can cry out all that hurt, that pain, loud as it wants to be, muffled by your aching chest. You squeeze back. You feel it all.

You don't know when you started rocking back and forth, but you remember suddenly it was something you'd do before. Only, you were by yourself back then, out scouting or something.

'Course, now you're not alone so you're rocking her back and forth too. She doesn't seem to mind. Which is good. 'Cause honestly, you really don't want to stop. You need it right now.

It's just pain, pain so real it's palpable. Takes up the whole damn tent. You're just staring at the tent wall. Beyond it. At nothing, really. You stare and stare but nothing of the outside's coming in. There's no room for it with all the hurt.

It feels like hours. Hell of a lot of hours, before it starts to go away. The tent wall says it hasn't been, it's still black of night.

The pain does go away. Slowly. You had forgotten it ever would, during. In time, though, you stopped rocking back and forth, and her breathing got deep and even, and though you're still hugging, it's- well, just hugging, not clutching on for dear life.

She pulls back. "Oh, I'm sorry-"

"Huh?"

"Your shirt, it's all," she laughs lightly. Your shirt's all soaked in front so it's sticking to you. "Heavens, it's all tears and snot, and-"

There's a tug at a corner of your mouth as you look down and hear her laugh after all that. You look up, shaking your head, "Forget about it."

"No, I got you all gross."

"'Salright, I'm always gross."

"That's not true," she keeps giggling.

"It is. That's why you're laughing."

"It isn't!"

"Alright, it isn't."

She smiles at you. For real. Not one of the ones that she forces. "One of these days, mister, I'm going to get a smile out of you from both sides of your mouth."

"Keep dreaming, miss." Truth is, you always had a crooked smile so she's doing pretty good, all things considered. She doesn't need to know that, though. "Feel better?"

She nods, just a little at first, then empathically. "Yeah! I really do. Thanks, I- I'm sorry I made you dredge up old memories. You know, about your mom."

"Oh, no. Like I said, you don't wanna forget right? It's been a while since I let myself- Ah, well, thanks to you too. This," you nod and look around, sighing. "This helped me too."

"Really?"

"Yeah." There's comfortable silence between the two of you for a while before you think to add, "You know, anytime you need someone to, uh, you know help you get it all out? You know where to find me."

"Of course," she smiles at you. "Oh, but, I ought to let you go. You should sleep."

"Ah, right, guess I should," you say, getting up. "G'night, then."

She gets up to see you out her tent, all what, five steps of it away? Still, you appreciate the gesture. She says, "Good night. I hope you sleep well."

You nod and head back to your tent, a hand on the wet shirt on your chest. It still aches a bit under there, but, in a way, you're glad to feel it. You think you'll sleep well after all.


End file.
